


The long way home

by JAKishu



Series: Your miracle [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Doctor John, John to the Rescue, M/M, Post-Reichenbach, Rescue Mission, Serbia - Freeform, Sherlock hurt, Torture, soldier John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 11:37:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10616121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JAKishu/pseuds/JAKishu
Summary: A sequel to "My light". John and Sherlock are on the way back to London. Just a short one.





	

It was real, all of it. The hand he was touching was real, cold as ice from not getting enough blood by hanging down from the celling in chains, with cuts and broken bones. But alive. Like his hand was the rest of Sherlock Holmes' body. He was covered by bruises, blood, broken bones, cuts and whip marks that would all leave scars which would never fade completely. More scars than there had already been on the once so spotless body. But the man who the hand John Watson was holding tight belonged to was alive and they were on their way home.

Every time John closed his eyes he could see the cell and the dead looking body of his best friend hanging down from the celling covered in blood and not moving at all. He remembered the man with the whip beating him without showing any mercy. And the surprised look on his face when a bullet hit him between his eyes.

John's greatest fear had been that he would be too late. Mycroft had sent him after the contact to Sherlock had been interrupted and he hadn't been able to get hold of him for a few weeks. He had told John everything. About the fake suicide, the assassins, Moriarty's network and how Sherlock had worked around the clock to destroy it. John was angry, doubted his sanity and happy all at the same time. Not sure which one of the things he was feeling he should believe in. But Sherlock was alive and he needed him. That was all that counted.

Mycroft had a plan: his men and a doctor/soldier/his brother's best friend were sent to rescue him. Because Mycroft knew that whatever shape they would find his brother in, Sherlock wouldn't trust another doctor to treat him or let someone else help him. Mycroft had promised not to tell John so that if he had failed and had really died, John wouldn't have had to grieve twice or feel guilty that he hadn't been able to do something that might have saved Sherlock. John would talk about this topic with Sherlock when they were safely back in London, in a hospital Sherlock wouldn't like, with him and every other person that loved or cared for him fussing over him and trying to make him better.

The fear was still there. Sherlock wasn't safe yet. He was in a bad shape. Since he had lost consciousness in the cell on the ground after John and the soldier had gotten him down, he hadn't woken or moved or showed any sign of life. But there was a pulse even if a weak and too fast pulse. And if you watched his chest closely you could see it moving slightly. John couldn't do much right now in the plane. He covered the cuts so Sherlock wouldn't bleed out, put him on an IV with fluids, pain medication and lots of nutrients as John was sure he hadn't had real food for weeks. He was also breathing through an oxygen mask. There was nothing more John, the doctor could do right now. John the soldier couldn't do anything either. He had rescued Sherlock. So all that was left now was John the best friend who was holding Sherlock's hand and talking to him, telling him over and over again that he was safe and they were on the way home.


End file.
